


Stripper AU

by ElfGrove



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Crushes, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 08:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11123523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfGrove/pseuds/ElfGrove
Summary: Archiving from my tumblr flash fics -- Oneshot. A response to the prompt, "Where Pidge is forced to go to a strip club by Hunk and Lance and she falls in love ‘Black Lion’ only to realize he was the cute guy working at the library." Nothing explicit, sorry folks.





	Stripper AU

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by sapphiresoulmate: "Where Pidge is forced to go to a strip club by Hunk and Lance and she falls in love ‘Black Lion’ only to realize he was the cute guy working at the library."
> 
> Originally posted here: http://elfgrove.tumblr.com/post/154275825153

Her face was tomato red by they time they walked out of the club, but not entirely for the same reason it had first started going red for.

“Come on,” Lance wheedled, bumping her hip with his own as they walked to a less busy side of the parking lot to wait for their Uber driver. “You loved it! Admit it!”

“More like I still I can’t believe you dragged me in there,” She hissed defensively. “I just wanted to grab a couple of drinks and go to sleep early!”

“Going to bed early is no way to celebrate finishing your senior thesis.” Hunk smiled knowingly, “Besides, you seemed like you were having fun by the end of it.”

“I told you I didn’t want to go to a strip club. _BOTH of you._ ”

“Was it really that bad?”

Lance looked wounded, the drinks were zooming out of happy-drunk Lance to overly-emotional-drunk Lance, and he wouldn’t take her normal grumpiness with his typically bouncy stride once the transition completed.

She sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose, “No. It wasn’t that bad. Just _really_ embarrassing.”

“You seemed to be getting pretty comfortable with that one guy,” Hunk grinned.

She was certain her face was getting redder, as if that were possible. “You two paid him to give me a lap dance.”

“He came highly recommended,” Lance sounded proud of himself.

“He was,” She rubbed the back of her neck and looked away from her friends. “Nice.”

“Right?! Bootylicious!”

“I can’t believe I even know you.”

_“You looooovvvvvvvvveeeee me.”_

“Lucky thing. It saves your life on the regular.”

“Should we have stuck around, or was it better that we went to the main stage while you got your dance?”

“It was fine,” She cut off Hunk’s worries. “Just embarrassing, okay? Can we please not talk about this?”

It had been better than fine actually. She’d been upset and humiliated when they’d left her alone with a stripper who’d just been paid to give her a lap dance. A very attractive stripper with black hair, sharp eyes, and muscles to die for. He’d taken in her nervousness and actually talked to her. Asked her about why her friends had brought her out, what was being celebrated, laughed with her about their enthusiasm to celebrate her hard work, asked what her thesis was about. Helped her calm down about the entire thing. He’d still given her the lap dance, something about "house rules" had been added with a playful wink before he’d gotten started. He was, erm, very good. She didn’t know how to describe it. She didn’t know what was normal. It wasn’t as if she’d been to a strip club before, but he’d danced just for her, very close and intense, fingers brushing her cheek and hair to draw her attention back every time she looked away. He’d smiled at her, asked her for more details on her thesis, chuckled warmly and moved closer every time she relaxed more. She’d started to turn red for an entirely different reason. Guys didn’t look at her like that. Didn’t talk to her like that. He was just doing his job, and she was quickly becoming smitten. It wasn’t fair of her, and she knew it.

He’d finished and gone back behind the curtained staff-only area, and she’d joined her friends at the stage where they were enthusiastically calling encouragement and dispersing tips. She joined them, much more subdued, but determined to be cool with this. It wasn’t that she had a problem with it, or was a prude. She just had no experience with this. Sexuality, if you ignored Lance, was usually such a private thing in her circles. If the man that had given her a lap dance was so kind, patient, skilled, and attractive, the others working here probably were too. She just needed to remind herself if was all professionalism, not personal. Paying attention to the other strippers would help.

She downed a shot before ordering another drink and wedged herself in next to Lance so her quieter reactions wouldn’t get noticed so much.

He’d come back out, on the stage this time, announced as the “Black Lion”, and she realized he’d never given her a name to call him by. Not that she needed one. This was less than even a one-night-stand territory. He’d done an amazingingly gymnastic series of pole dances and Lance had tucked a $20 into a sequined strap before Black Lion had flashed a smile directly at her and leaned in close.

“Are you having fun yet, Katie?”

She felt her entire body heat up with a blush but nodded and offered a smile in return that she hoped wasn’t too awkward-looking, “Yeah.”

His smile widened, “Glad to hear it.”

He’d accepted her shakily offered tip, helping her place it under an elastic strap that crossed his hip, insisting he couldn’t let her just hand it to him, citing “house rules” again. Then he’d done something that involved far too much bending to effectively flip himself to the other side of the stage to mingle with other customers.

Lance slapped her on the shoulder, laughing loudly, “Katie, huh? Not Pidge?”

“He must have gotten it off my ID,” She huffed in embarrassment. She never gave people her legal first name. People often knew her for ages before learning Pidge was a nickname with no relation to her legal name. it usually only came up if someone in the know said something or if she didn’t handle the cards when splitting a meal at a restaurant.

 

* * *

 

 

It was the three days later when she found herself headed to the library again. Her thesis was done. She didn’t actually need to be there, but months of habit were hard to break. And she was craving a coffee from the on site cafe.

She took her coffee and grabbed a lighter book to kill some time on before taking her usual spot at a table in the engineering and sciences stacks on one of the lower floors. The chair was old and plush, and had formed to fit her over the last several months. It was a home away from home.

She heard once of the librarians pushing the returns cart behind her a couple of hours later, his warm chuckle familiar.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, trying to be inconspicuous. It was the cute guy who always wore button up shirts and sweater vests, with a shock of white hair that fell over his forehead. She wondered if she’d still think he was half as cute after the Black Lion from the club had grabbed her attention.

He smiled at her from a couple of tables over, the area empty save the two of them.

Still cute. _Dammit._ It was never the attainable guys that caught her attention. Why did he only seem to be around when she was in her rattiest jeans and had just stuffed her hair into a ponytail instead of when she tried to look nice?

“I thought you finished your thesis?”

She raised the book she was reading, showing off the cover to be a sci-fi novel instead of a research book, “I did. I just like it down here. It’s quiet.”

“I feel you there.”

He shelved a couple of books from the cart, and she tugged on the ponytail, trying to refocus on the book and instead of glancing back up at him.

It caught her off guard when one of the chairs across from her moved and she looked up to see him perching on the arm of it, his expression cautious, as if he expected to be run off.

“Any word on how your thesis did yet?”

She blinked, dumbfounded. He must see dozens, hundreds, of students doing thesis work. Why would he care about hers?

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly when she didn’t answer, “Overstepping?”

“No!” She blushed and coughed, trying to excuse the outburst. “It’s too early yet. Hopefully, I should hear back before the end of the month.”

“That’s good. I’m sure they’ll like what you put forward, Katie.”

“Wha–? How do you–? My name?”

He chuckled, “Your student ID. I’ve logged your books in and out a bunch of times.”

“Right,” She tugged on the ponytail again. “Of course.”

“So, am I not going to see you around as much now? With your thesis finished?”

“Nah. I’ll probably keep practically living down here.” She laughed at herself, “Either I’ll have revisions to do, or I’ll need to start my proposal for the graduate program here.”

“You’re going to do your graduate work here?”

“If I can. I’m trying to get in with Dr. Hendrick’s group.”

“As long as it’s not Iverson. He’s impossible to please.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yep,” He laughed again, adjusting his perch on the arm of chair to lean closer to her. “I’m working on some advanced propulsion and geospatial mapping theories under his group. The man’s a bear. – You?”

“I’m thinking something in signals processing. Not absolutely certain yet.”

“Hendrick’s good for that.” His eyes tracked back and forth across her face, “Hey Katie, I get off shift in an hour or so. Would you like to grab lunch with me?”

“Me?”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to.” He brushed a hand through the shock of white hair, pulling it back over his head to mingle with the black and better showing off his face. He gave her a smile that warmed her to the bottom of her toes. “I’d just really like to get to know you better.”

She knew that smile, that warmth. But that man hadn’t had a white streak in his hair. Otherwise, the looked painfully similar now that she was looking at the cute librarian this close up. She was speaking the words as a question before she’d fully processed the realization, “Black Lion?”

He blushed, the tips of his ears going crimson, and the smile faltered slightly, “Yeah. I have to pay off my student loans, and it’s a good pay to time trade-off.”

“I didn’t know,” She sputtered. “I–”

“It really threw me for a loop when you came in the other night. The brilliant engineer from the library I’d been crushing on, and your friend is trying to buy you a lap dance to celebrate you finishing your bachelor’s degree.”

“You’ve been crushing on me?”

“You’re cute, smart, and passionate about aerospace. Kind of hard not to.”

“You didn’t say anything at the club.”

“Couldn’t exactly whisk you away from my co-workers to ask you out on the clock.”

She couldn’t help it, she laughed, “So you gave me my first lap dance?”

“Had to try to keep your eyes on me instead of anyone else. Did it work?”

“Definitely.” She put her book down and stood, reaching across the table to finger one of the strands of white hair, “What about this?”

“Temporary dye for the stage. Nobody wants a white-haired stripper, and it keeps most people from recognizing me outside work.” He caught her hand before she could pull it back completely, “So about lunch?”

“You’re not the only one who’s been crushing on the cutie from the library, Black Lion,” They chuckled together. “Lunch sounds great.”

“Shiro.”

She smiled, “I know.”


End file.
